


here's to tomorrow

by entrechat



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Waltzing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29327433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entrechat/pseuds/entrechat
Summary: And just like that Osamu’s mouth goes dry and his ears light up red. He can barely manage a nod before pulling open the bookcase and slipping into the secret passageway so he can get out of the castle undetected. His thoughts run rampant in his hand and it all feels like too much. Osamu replays the moment several times in his head, cursing at his shit short term memory and willing himself to remember as many details as possible.Visit again soon stays crystal clear no matter what.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 11
Kudos: 66
Collections: SunaOsa Valentine's Exchange





	here's to tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Early Valentines Day!
> 
> just wanna make note that due to this being a gift for the sunaosa exchange i've removed the literary markers that are common to the hyogo accent for the twins and kita in this by request. simply imagine it is still there~

“You are completely beyond the vocabulary I have. My love and gentle affection for you is infinite and vast. I find myself utterly fond each time I see you. Your beauty rivals that of the moon or small delicate poppies. I cherish you and hope you’ll cherish me the same.”

The moment Osamu’s eyes peek over the paper in his hands and he locks eyes with Rintarou they both collapse into laughter. Osamu can’t contain himself when he hears Rintarou start hiccuping through his laughs.

“Atsumu,” Rintarou pauses to sit up and grip his side, while catching his breath. “Atsumu really wrote that?”

With a hasty nod and a long exhale Osamu confirms. “I don’t even know who he could be writing this for. The idiot is probably too scared because he thinks I’ll meddle.”

“Gods, that was awful. Who taught him that stuff?”

There’s a beat of silence as they collect themselves, and Osamu sits down beside Rintarou on the edge of his bed. Their thighs are almost touching. Osamu can’t help but fiddle with the folded love note in his hands.

“You’d hate if someone confessed to you like that, wouldn’t you?”

Osamu can practically feel Rintarou’s eyes searing into him, yet he can’t bring himself to look back. Rintarou was always so incredibly perceptive. Sometimes to a point it scared him, because of Rintarou’s accuracy. Yet maybe that was among one of the several reasons he so desperately wanted to look over. For Rintarou to just see what was going on in Osamu’s head without him having to say anything.

That would be much easier.

“I’d say no even if I liked the person.” Rintarou’s voice raises in pitch, loose fists pressed against his cheeks. “Prince Rintarou I’m so in love with you, please read this note where I’ve described my feelings so I don’t have to say anything. Pick me to marry!”

Glancing over then, Osamu lets himself chuckle softly, mouth pulled higher on one end in a lopsided, yet easy smile. “Yeah, you’re right,” Osamu sighs out, falling onto his back and staring at the sheer canopy hanging at the top of Rintarou’s bed. “That mushy shit would never work on you.”

Rintarou clicks his tongue and stands up, “No, no, no. You’re not getting comfortable right now.” He reaches for Osamu’s hands and pulls until he’s on his feet.

They’re suddenly too close when Osamu finally gives in and stands, hands clasped and short exhales occupying the same space. It’s suffocating while also being completely and utterly desirable. Despite that Osamu breaks the short moment first, slipping his hands out and stepping towards Rintarou’s bookcase filled with vast stories and trinkets from his travels. He doesn’t allow himself the luxury of staying like that. Staying close enough to Rintarou to spot the small, white scar just nicking the top of his lip.

“You’re right, I should go before someone comes in to check on you.”

Osamu’s hand is gripping the side of the bookcase when a hasty, “Osamu,” enters his ears. He turns around to face Rintarou, head cocked. “Visit again soon, okay? I’ve been climbing the walls without you.”

And just like that Osamu’s mouth goes dry and his ears light up red. He can barely manage a nod before pulling open the bookcase and slipping into the secret passageway so he can get out of the castle undetected. His thoughts run rampant in his hand and it all feels like too much. Osamu replays the moment several times in his head, cursing at his shit short term memory and willing himself to remember as many details as possible.

_Visit again soon_ stays crystal clear no matter what.

—

The thing about time is it can hit you in two ways. The sound of the clock indicates the same, consistent passing of time. It never changes pace, the constant tick tock forcing a tempo. But time, time forces its way into minds and distorts the understanding of its pace. It compels belief that it isn’t ever the same. Seconds stretch into minutes and hours and suddenly a whole lifetime has passed before the next time you check the minute hand only to find it hasn’t shifted. Yet, sometimes time speeds. The moment it senses a craving to preserve a moment and it’s over in an instant, slipping past fingers with ease.

Time is confusing and stupid and Osamu wants to throw the huge clock propped on the wall out the window.

“-jesty. Prince Osamu.” Osamu barely zones back in to hear Shinsuke snap, “Miya Osamu!” Osamu jolts in his chair, eyes focusing on Shinsuke standing in front of him with a purse to his lips. “If you aren’t going to pay attention again, I might as well stop talking your ear off. I have better use of my time.”

“Wait, I’m sorry Kita-san. I just…” he trails off, fingers curling around the book in front of him, apologetic.

“You’re worrying about the news from this morning aren’t you?” Shinsuke levels with him, dragging another chair to Osamu’s side and sitting by him. “Atsumu mentioned it during his lesson.”

Osamu’s head hits the book and he groans as loud as he can with his mouth pressed to a leather cover. He could practically feel Shinsuke’s desire to laugh at him, but he was too well mannered to. Instead, the weight of Shinsuke’s hand comes to lightly rub circles at the top of his back.

“I know a lot is expected of you, Osamu. You don’t need to be so hard on yourself, though,” Shinsuke hums, smile evident in his voice. “While the Miya’s and the Suna’s haven’t ever been allies since the beginning of both of your reigns, I still believe you have the ability to change that.”

With a heartless huff Osamu sits up, rubbing at the sore spot on his forehead. “Why does it have to be _me?_ ‘Tsumu’s gonna be out traipsing the villages with Aran-kun and I’m stuck doing all the diplomatic work.”

“You know why, Osamu. You excel more in your studies,” Shinsuke raises a palm when he sees Osamu open his mouth to argue, “even when you’re trying not to apply yourself. Atsumu on the other hand was always more engaged during training. It was only natural.”

Osamu holds his tongue this time.

Shinsuke graces him with a serene grin and stands, squeezing Osamu’s shoulder. “You needn’t be afraid. The Suna’s have a son your age and I think through him you could secure some form of peace.”

Oh, was Osamu aware of the son. He knew Rintarou better than anyone could’ve possibly guessed. No, he wasn’t worried about ‘meeting’ Rintarou. He was worried the second they were face to face he would somehow reveal everything he’s been harboring. Not only to Rintarou but to both their royal courts.

The door to the library shuts, taking Shinsuke with it. Osamu blows out a strangled breath until the gentle ticking of the clock makes itself aware in his ears again.

Safe to say, to Osamu, the clock did a better job shattered in the courtyard than filling the library with too much noise to even think clearly.

—

“You’re so dead when you get back,” Osamu hisses under his breath, shoulder checking Atsumu as they walk to the main hall, side by side.

Atsumu shoves his elbow into Osamu’s side, smirking due to the lack of armor that Atsumu was currently donning. “You should be grateful, aho.”

“ _Grateful?_ ”Osamu sputters, rubbing at his ribcage with an ever present scowl. “All I’m grateful for is that I don’t have to see your ugly mug fo-“

“Behave,” Shinsuke snaps, not even turning around to face the twins.

Both Atsumu and Osamu stiffen, shifting into a proper walk with chins lifted and hands clasped behind their backs. Like some sort of spell was cast on them. Osamu leans over just slightly. “I swear he has eyes in the back of his head.”

Grimacing, Atsumu nods, refusing to even glance in Osamu’s direction.

Loser.

The doors to the main hall are opened by two guards and Shinsuke leads the twins in. Osamu’s eyes immediately spot Rintarou, drawn to him without a second thought. His breath hitches as he takes in the pristine white of his blouse, velvet and a beautiful contrast to his skin. Billowing sleeves with sheer panels running in vertical stripes. A deep blue cape secured across his chest, flowing around his arms and to his feet, an intricate gold piece of decorative armor covering his left shoulder.

He wears the colors of his kingdom well.

Osamu shakes his head lightly as he and Atsumu come to a stop between their parents, and find themselves in front of Rintarou and his family in a similar position. Rintarou and his sister flanked by their parents as well.

Rintarou and his parents bow in sync, and Osamu nearly misses the way Rintarou kicks at his sister's ankle to remind her to curtsy. He barely suppresses a snort before his family takes their turn to bow.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you face to face,” Osamu begins with a subtle drawl, a measured grin on his lips, avoiding Rintarou’s glance temporarily as he runs through what he was instructed to say, taking responsibility for the diplomacy under his parents’ instructions. “We hope you find your short stay here to be fruitful. We’ve arranged a ball to take place in your honor.”

It’s silent for a beat before Rintarou’s father clears his throat, “Rintarou,” he speaks lowly.

“Oh,” Rintarou coughs, falling out of the trance he found himself in. “Thank you for the kindness you’ve shown us thus far.” Osamu has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the impending smirk. Rintarou sounds so different speaking so formally compared to when it’s just the two of them joking around. “We’d be delighted to attend.”

Osamu nods curtly, schooling his expression into one of professionalism. He spots Aran enter from the corner of his eyes and it seems Atsumu spotted him at the same time because he straightens up and offers another bow. “Sorry to cut this short, but I’m off. Enjoy your stay,” he speaks in one quick breath before slipping away from the group and following Aran out, hot on his heels.

There’s a clap and Osamu jolts at the sudden volume change. He glances to the side to see his father’s hands clasped together. “Well, lets have someone show you to your rooms and we can have some tea. Osamu why don’t you show Rintarou around, hm?”

He could feel Rintarou’s stare boring into him already and he swallowed thickly, turning to face Rintarou and offering an arm which Rintarou was glad to hook his into.

“Shall we?”

—

Over the course of the week — between attending actual important meetings, filled with agreements on trading and boundary lines, and chewing out Atsumu every time they have a sparring match — Osamu manages to whisk Rintarou away to the kitchens, mischief running rampant on his face.

While his family is by no means cruel, it’s not difficult to see the kitchen staff has taken a deeper liking to Osamu, considering how often he tries to sneak down and help with cooking. He knows they will never mention his little escapades. They greet him with bright grins and gentle bows as he hops onto a counter and snags an apple from a bowl. He holds out his free hand expectantly.

Rintarou sighs with a blatant roll of his eyes before pulling his dagger from the sheath on his hip and handing it to Osamu.

“I swear you’re just using me for my pretty weapons,” Rintarou challenges, glancing around the kitchen and reveling in the smells.

Osamu deftly cuts a small slice from the apple, teeth sinking into the crisp fruit and chuckling around the mouthful. “Nu uh, ‘Tsumu would do that,” Osamu quips, words slurring together, “I’m using you for the eye candy.”

“Oh, so now you think I’m eye candy, huh?”

Rintarou promptly places himself between Osamu’s legs, eyebrow arched like a dare. Osamu belatedly notices a warmth on his knee in the form of Rintarou’s hand resting on it. Osamu barely recognizes it, though, too busy swallowing thickly and trying not to think about Rintarou’s breath against his chin. He can feel the tips of his ears burning, too.

There’s a passing thought that Osamu should just deny it all, avoid any embarrassment, and an even more insistent one telling him to just lean down and kiss Rintarou, throwing caution to the wind. He opens his mouth and when nothing comes out he blanches.

Then pressure increases on his leg until Rintarou’s nails are digging into the meat of his thigh, sneering at him playfully.

“Ow, ow, ow! Rin, stop. Let go, I’m sorry,” Osamu whines, despite not knowing what he’s apologizing for.

When the hold is finally released, Osamu pouts. He makes a point to even huff, moving his attention to cutting another apple slice. He holds it to Rintarou’s mouth this time and without missing a beat, Rintarou bites down. Osamu tries to ignore the fact that Rintarou’s lips brushed his fingers.

“Mm,” Rintarou hums, stepping back to give Osamu space to jump down. “The apples here are sweeter,” he mumbles. Osamu can’t help but feel like there’s deeper meaning, but before he can ponder for too long that steam starts coming out of his ears, Rintarou is already traipsing away, not looking back to check if Osamu is following.

He is following.

—

After three short knocks Osamu finds himself standing in front of the most terrifying sight he’s ever seen. This being Rintarou in a pair of white linen pants and a sweater made of sheep’s wool, dyed a lighter shade of blue than his cape had been, but still completely beautiful. Terrifying in that Osamu catches how the bottom of the sweater ends much higher than he thought it would and he can see Rintarou’s skin above his waistband. 

Terrifying because Osamu _swears_ he’s had a dream resembling this situation.

He loses the flow of time again because he doesn’t realize he’s been standing there with his mouth open and his hand still hovering in the air in a loose fist.

“You alright, ‘Samu?”

Osamu lamely drops his arm to sweep his hair off his forehead for a moment. He clears his throat and glances to his right where a guard is posted at the end of the hallway and dips into a bow.

“Good evening, Prince Rintarou. I hope you’ve been well so far and feel excited for the ball tomorrow. Uhm,” he fidgets slightly, side eyeing the guard once more and cringing at the formality. “My mother asked me to check on you and I have a question as well. Would it be alright if I came in?”

“It’s your castle, O-“ Osamu levels him with a piercing stare. “Of course, Prince Osamu.” Rintarou steps aside and Osamu shuffles past him. As soon as the door clicks shut Osamu wilts, tugging at his collar and sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed.

Osamu runs his hands down his face as he feels Rintarou move to stand in front of him. “Sorry about all that. I just feel everyone breathing down my neck to be so perfect so our families finally come to an agreement.” He pauses and peeks between his fingers to look at Rintarou. “We _are_ going to come to an agreement, right?”

Rintarou scoffs and the bed dips beside Osamu. They’re flush together from knee to hip and Osamu momentarily tenses when Rintarou’s head finds a place on Osamu’s shoulder.

It’s warm, not in a stifling way. Osamu feels nothing but content, heart picking up in his chest. His fingers twitch where they rest in his lap but he holds still, just listening to Rintarou breathe. He hasn’t had any alcohol, but he feels light, cheeks flushed. He wishes his skin would cool down. His lips part, tongue poking out to wet his lower lip. He wants to speak but he is too afraid to croak. He just drinks in the feeling of closeness with Rintarou. His nerves are buzzing.

“You said you wanted to ask me something?” Rintarou nearly whispers, not moving his head.

Osamu nods, clearing his throat and staring straight ahead of him. He squeezes his hands into fists and he notices he’s grinding his molars together. He physically stops himself and opens his mouth, sighing harshly. Rintarou’s hand is suddenly on Osamu’s, pulling at his fingers until his fist unfurls and he can slot his fingers in the spaces between Rintarou’s. They’re holding hands now.

_They’re holding hands._

It feels right, holding hands with Rintarou. His heart doesn’t ache as much and he relaxes, turning his head to look at Rintarou with a soft, nearly lopsided grin. Rintarou lifts his head and his lips aren’t curved but his eyes are smiling.

“Do you wanna go to the ball with me?” Osamu asks, grin growing.

Rintarou hits his chest with a loud laugh, shoving at his shoulder.

“What? What did I do?” Osamu gasps through bouts of laughter, raising the hand not holding Rintarou’s in surrender.

“You asshole, I thought you were gonna confess or something!” Rintarou hisses.

Osamu raises a playful eyebrow and pokes his tongue out between his teeth. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you _want_ me to confess?” He clears his throat again, raising his pitch into a more feminine tone. “Prince Rintarou, I’m so in love with you. Please accept my feelings and pick me to marry!”

Rintarou narrows his eyes and pulls his hand from Osamu’s pushing at him again so his back hits the bed. He moves so fast Osamu gets slightly dazed and he’s left with the image of Rintarou hovering over him, hands on either side of his head and knees caging his hips.

“Do you mean it?”

“And if I do?” Osamu questions, hands still limp at his sides and he never moves his gaze from Rintarou’s eyes.

“You better mean it, Miya Osamu, because I’ve been so in love with you that I filled my parent’s heads with thoughts of peace treaties so we don’t have to sneak around anymore.”

“Say it again,” Osamu murmurs, hands finally finding Rintarou’s waist, thumbs rubbing circles on his hip bones, digging into the exposed skin.

“I’m in love with you, Miya Osamu.”

“Good, because I’m in love with you too, Suna Rintarou. Now please kiss me, because I’ve been thinking about it every time I’ve seen you this week and I think it’s making me lose my mind.”

There’s silence as Rintarou grins, then he lowers himself to his elbows, fingers weaving through Osamu’s hair. Their lips press together as Osamu flutters his eyes shut and slides his hands up to press against Rintarou’s back. It’s warm, and Rintarou’s lips are so soft. He sighs lightly, taking it all in before Rintarou just barely tilts his head and parts his lips. It’s effective because Osamu can lean up and drag his tongue along the roof of Rintarou’s mouth. He tastes minty and distinctly like the herbal teas his mom has been drinking and offering their guests all week. He tastes like comfort and home. Osamu could kiss him for ages.

Until the door to Rintarou’s room opens and the most annoying twang of, “Hey ‘Samu, Mom said you should be in here and I- okay!”

Rintarou sits up, eyes wide and lips swollen. Osamu pushes Rintarou off his lap as gently as he can and springs towards Atsumu to clap his hand over his brother’s mouth.

“Do. Not. Yell.” Osamu speaks softly, reaching around Atsumu to shut the door again. He slowly releases Atsumu and steps back. “I will explain everything as long as you don’t tell our parents.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” Atsumu counters, glancing over Osamu’s shoulder to look at Rintarou. “Just surprised he’d go for you is all,” Atsumu snipes, cackling to himself when Osamu hits the side of his head.

“Don’t even start,” Osamu warns, relaxing when Rintarou’s chin hooks over his shoulder.

“Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” Rintarou asks, teeth gritting. “This isn’t even Osamu’s room.”

Atsumu pouts, reaching for the door handle behind him. “Just wanted to tell you that dinner’s ready. Osamu would kill me if he was late,” Atsumu drawls then books it out of there.

Rintarou snakes his arms around Osamu’s waist and Osamu can feel his shoulders shaking with mirth.

“Yes,” Rintarou whispers against Osamu’s ear.

“Hm?”

“Yes, I’d like to accompany you to the ball.”

—

Orchestral music fills the ballroom with the highs and lows of a waltz, filtering through the air in a lively fashion and never ceasing as one dance leads into another. It’s loud but calming and in all the same ways exhilarating. The entire room is filled with people of high class, lords and ladies from the kingdom and royals from neighboring areas. People are dancing, talking, drinking. There are stone pillars with gold pieces decorating them throughout the room and the chandeliers glint like they know what tonight is.

It’s nearly too magical to be real.

However, Osamu doesn’t care for any of that. His eyes are focused on the man in his arms. He can’t help but grin as they circle the floor, engaged in a practiced waltz, hands clasped and fingers squeezing every so often. Osamu thinks Rintarou is the most breathtaking thing in this room.

Several other people seem to think the same.

When Osamu entered with Rintarou on his arm, practically dripping in luxurious fabrics and wearing the same deep reds as Osamu, eyes didn’t waver from them. Osamu had to take a moment to compose himself from the attention and ignore the whispers. It was easy when Rintarou’s chiffon covered hand had lifted Osamu’s bare one to his lips and kissed his knuckles lightly. Rintarou had asked for a dance then and Osamu didn’t hesitate to agree.

“You look dashing,” Osamu breathes out, against Rintarou’s ear, their cheeks pressed together.

Rintarou hums in acknowledgement, squeezing Osamu’s shoulder and moving his hand so his fingers lightly press at Osamu’s nape. Chills run down Osamu’s spine from the touch.

“I’d say I look pretty good in red, don’t you think?” Rintarou teases, pulling back and fluttering his eyelashes.

The red adorning Rintarou’s eyes matches that of his clothes, bringing out their sharpness and the green of his eyes. Osamu feels mesmerized.

“I told you that you were eye candy,” Osamu shoots back, finally finding himself again.

Rintarou can’t help but nearly double over with a laugh, head dropping onto Osamu’s shoulder, his feet never missing a step. “Look who’s talking.”

The music softens for a moment and they part. Rintarou bows and Osamu jokingly curtsies, leading Rintarou towards the side of the room with a secure hand on his lower back. When they’re free from the movement of a dance he snags two flutes of champagne off a tray and hands Rintarou one.

“I’m really glad you were dumb enough to get our families to do this. Glad you’re here with me,” Osamu speaks clearly, holding out his glass.

Rintarou is already drinking his, halfway through when he looks at Osamu and nearly chokes. “Sorry,” he mutters, trying to hide his smirk. His tongue wipes across his teeth. “I’m glad you asked me to be here with you,” he hums in agreement, clinking their glasses together so they can both drink.

“Starting tomorrow the Miya’s and the Suna’s will be allies,” Osamu sighs lightly.

“Starting tomorrow Osamu and Rintarou won’t have to hide in secret passageways anymore,” Rintarou counters, sliding his free arm around Osamu’s waist and leaning against his side.

“True,” Osamu realizes, dropping a kiss on Rintarou’s temple. “Here’s to tomorrow.” Their glasses connect again, the sound piercing even in a room of string instruments and conversation.

The glasses are emptied in the next breath and Osamu doesn’t care about the staring anymore when he lifts Rintarou’s chin with two fingers and presses the most tender kiss to his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> come hang out with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/matsucockwa)


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